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| And so, a small reminder for myself... |
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| Be the thermostat. |
My friend Kelly taught me this once, and her dad taught her. While I’m prone to measuring the temperature, to reading the room, to quietly adjusting my own layers to better acclimate, a thermostat declares the room cold and makes it warm.
We all hold in ourselves the power to transform – in ways small and large – a room, a year, a Christmas Day. We can make it hot or cold. We can make our homes into caves or havens; we can make our days stretch or crumble.
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| It is ours to decide, and we can decide. |
Yesterday, we all woke up in stormy moods. The clouds hung low outside the window, mocking our attitudes. I puttered around per usual – frying eggs, washing pans, wrapping presents – and as the day went on and the coffee wore off, the sun still hadn’t come out. My responses were shortened, strained. Morgen carried a furrowed brow. Markus grew grumpy.
I practiced deep breaths, spritzed some rosewater on my face, willed myself to snap out of it. The Christmas dance party playlist wasn’t cutting it; I found the extra noise to be annoying.
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| Be the thermostat, I reminded myself. Set the tone. Rise above. You’re the grown-up. Make it warm. |
I dug out an old puzzle for Morg, did 20 sit-ups for myself. Read Christmas Stories. Made a few silly faces for Max, then a few more for Preslee. In very little time, with very little effort, the energy of the room offered teenage smiles and grown-up giggles yet again.
Eventually, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, but it didn’t matter: the house was warm enough without it.
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Tell me: how did you spend your Christmas day? I’d love to hear!
p.s. These are a series of small steps that will (hopefully) provide one giant leap to greater things. Not for mankind, but for me, and perhaps for you, which will always be good enough in my book. More to come.
